


fascination

by lineduae



Category: Phoenix: Dawn Command
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Ink/Dawn/Vigil, Much fixation on hair and hair brushing, Multi, OT3, Pining, Polyamory, Vigil has a teensy little hair kink, but focus on Dawn/Vigil, mutual but unconfessed love, no angst for once, so fluffy and sweet you will probably die of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 04:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11478360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lineduae/pseuds/lineduae
Summary: In fact, his interest was getting a little ridiculous. Vigil was beginning to have recurring daydreams of brushing Dawn’s hair out to perfect smoothness, of twisting it up, of letting it down to get tangled again.The other day he had actually tripped, preoccupied as he was with the way she twisted a strand around her finger as they walked.Something had to be done.





	fascination

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set in the Phoenix: Dawn Command universe. Ink and Vigil are characters belonging to Michael Holmes. Dawn is my original character. 
> 
> Thanks to my good friend L, who looked this over for me. In their words, this fic is "so extra". And they have a point. This is for those of us who indulge in super fluffy, super sweet fic. I hope you enjoy.

Dawn was beautiful. It was a supernatural beauty, fitting for what she was, equal parts elemental and human.

As he got to know her, Vigil saw and appreciated it even more- the high curve of her cheek, her full lips, her toned shoulders and graceful arms. The golden warmth in her sun-kissed skin. The way she moved with grace and made the smallest motions meaningful.

One of the things that had surprised him was how entranced he was by her hair.

The first to get his attention had been the colour. Although one might say that Dawn’s hair was red, it was red in the way that the sky was blue or the earth was green.

Every strand was different; amber and vermilion, summer sunrise, copper, scarlet, blood and mahogany, and even the rosy hues of rubies and coral lent a shifting effect that dazzled in sunlight and shimmered by firelight. Poet that he was, Vigil caught himself watching as she combed her fingers through it, picking out the different shades and trying to put names to the colours.

Dawn ran her fingers through her hair often, prone as it was to twisting into elflocks or tangling up. Even then, it had a perpetually untamed and windswept quality to it. When the breeze picked up some of the lighter strands, they licked around her like flames, which fascinated Vigil.

The next thing to capture his interest was the sheer volume of it. As wild as the Flame she had once been, the thick waves fell erratically over her shoulders and ended in loose curls at her mid back. Finely textured but gloriously thick, it demanded to have his fingers tangled in the softness of it.

In fact, his interest was getting a little ridiculous. Vigil was beginning to have recurring daydreams of brushing Dawn’s hair out to perfect smoothness, of twisting it up, of letting it down to get tangled again.

The other day he had actually tripped, preoccupied as he was with the way she twisted a strand around her finger as they walked.

Something had to be done.

Vigil saw his chance one night, after they had chosen a forest clearing in which to recover from their last scuffle with Varya’s Phoenixes.

Ink was at one end of the small clearing, almost invisible against the shadowy tree line, lost in the meditation necessary to access his mind-library.

Dawn was at the other end, lying on a bed of clover in the grass. Her hair shone faintly in the moon’s full light, and as he approached he saw that one of the little white blossoms had gotten tangled in it. Her eyes were gently shut, but she was awake, listening intently to something Vigil couldn't perceive.

When he reached her he pulled a small object wrapped neatly in a bright square of fabric out of his satchel. He set it down beside her in the grass.

Dawn opened her eyes and sat up as Vigil began to walk away. Her head tilted in question as she looked at the gift.

“Vigil,” she said, “You left this.” 

He turned back. She was holding the gift out to him from where she sat.

“No, no,” he said, smiling bashfully. “I'm giving that to you. It's a gift.”

“Oh,” Dawn said in surprise. “A gift.” She looked down at the object.

“You should open it up,” Vigil said, laughing. His feet brought him back to her side. He sat in the grass beside her and gestured to the gift. “Go on.”

She did so. When she held up the wooden comb and inspected the intricate flowers carved into the handle, he blushed. 

“It's a comb. A Grimwaldian merchant was selling it in the last town. I thought it was pretty, and you're always trying to- Well, your hair is- Not that there’s anything wrong with your hair! I think it’s-”

Dawn turned to him and smiled so brightly that he found himself dazzled.

“-beautiful.” He finished weakly.

“I love it,” she enthused. “It is beautiful.”

She pointed out one of the flowers bordering the corners. “Bellflower. Undying love.” 

Pointing out another flower, “Celandine means that there are joys to come.”

Of the last flowers she said, “Heliotrope. For devotion.” Her gold eyes sparkled at that.

She crossed her legs, pulled some of her hair over one shoulder, and then began to run the comb through it.

Vigil watched the teeth capture the strands and turn her hair into silky waves that shone like water. Feeling very warm and a little breathless, his mouth started speaking before he could stop it. “Dawn, I…”

Dawn looked up at him with a little “hm?”, not ceasing in her movements.

Vigil lost his nerve.

“I used to do that for my sisters,” he supplied. “May I?”

Dawn handed him the comb and turned herself so that she was sitting with her back to him.

He scooched closer and, taking a handful of her hair close to her skull so that it wouldn't pull, he brought the comb down and through the red strands, brows furrowed in concentration.

When Ink came back to reality, he was met with the image of Dawn and Vigil sitting in the green grass, illuminated by the moonlight. Dawn’s head was tipped back, her eyes closed in bliss as Vigil braided and unbraided her hair, running his fingertips gently over her scalp, letting it run luxuriously through his hands,

To no one but himself, Ink shook his head in fond exasperation as he went to take a walk in the woods.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading about two giant fluffy nerds and their exasperated boyfriend.


End file.
